


Collars of Care and Hoods of Despair

by supersleepygoat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, BDSM, Dom/sub, F/M, Fluff, Multi, Sensory Deprivation, Smut, Use of Safe Word, slight dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-20 18:15:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17627213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supersleepygoat/pseuds/supersleepygoat
Summary: The Winchesters are your established Doms. After a rough hunt, they punish you with sensory deprivation. But, something goes wrong and they can’t hear you when you use your safe word.





	Collars of Care and Hoods of Despair

John tears into the bunker’s garage with the Impala following close behind. John pulls you out of his truck by your hair. He slams the door shut and pins you against the cold metal. You look over his shoulder to where Sam and Dean are getting out of Baby. Their features are just as hardened as their father’s. They won’t move to help you, not that you want them to. 

“Get her fucking collar,” John barks the order at both his sons. He doesn’t care which one responds, he just needs you claimed before you set foot inside the bunker. Your collar isn’t a toy. It is a symbol of their ownership over you. It is a symbol of your trust in them. You have it on whenever you are at home. It is the closest thing to a wedding band you will ever get from these boys and you’re okay with that. 

Dean rushes over to Baby’s trunk and finds your duffle bag. He digs through it until he finds your collar. It is a thick black faux-leather strap with big silver buckles. At the front, there is a large metal loop that can be used to leash you to the bed or keep you by their side. John secures the collar in place, a little tighter than he usually makes it. But, you know better than to complain. You are already in trouble and John doesn’t like it when you whine. 

You stepped out of line while on a hunt with your boys. You are hunters. But, you also live a dominant/submissive lifestyle. To anyone else, your situation is complicated. Some may even call that combination dangerous. But for you and the Winchesters, it works. As their Sub, they expect you to follow their orders in every situation. You listen and do as your told. It keeps you safe and satisfied. You are a good soldier who trusts her commanders wholly and completely. 

But, problems do arise from time to time. For instance, their orders can conflict with your instinct to sacrifice yourself for those you love. And that’s exactly what happened. John and his boys got pinned down by a nest of vampires. They ordered you to run and leave them behind. You only half-listened. You took your blade and cut into your arm hoping the scent of your blood would catch the monsters’ attention. Then and only then, did you run off and leave the Winchesters. You knew at least some of the vamps would follow you. 

Your actions gave the Winchesters a fighting chance. But when they caught up to you, you had one vampire latched onto your throat and another onto your wrist. They didn’t take much blood from you, your boys made sure of that. But the Winchesters are pissed at you nonetheless. They are your Doms, so they believe it is their job to protect you. They can’t stand seeing you hurt. But, what they fail to see is that you have the same undying need to take care of them too. Even at your own expense. 

You don’t regret your actions for two reasons. First, you have no problem dying for the Winchesters. You would lay down your life for any one of them in a heartbeat. Second, you know the punishments for breaking their rules are always going to be good. You always prefer working for forgiveness rather than asking for permission.

John smiles as his finger flicks over the silver ‘W’ that dangles at the front of your collar. But it is not a warm smile. It is predatory. 

John takes a step back. “We’re home now. You know the rules. Unless, you want to break those rules too? In that case we can-”

You cut John off by shaking your head. You know better than to interrupt him with speech. You like your punishments but you like being their good girl more. You know you’re already in trouble. So, you don’t want to make it worse for yourself. 

You start taking off your clothes one stitch at a time. Whenever you are in between cases and back at the bunker, you have certain rules you must follow. First and foremost, they expect you to wear nothing but your collar. Unless they give you permission otherwise, you must always be bare for them. Once you are completely naked, John nods his approval. You blush under his silent praise. 

You look over at Sam and Dean and wait for their approval as well. Once granted, you take your cue and leave the garage. You head straight for your playroom. You know that’s where they want you. You can hear their heavy footsteps behind you but you know better than to turn around. 

You enter your room and get on the bed. You kneel and wait for further instruction. Sam is the first to enter the room. John and Dean are talking something over in the hall. So, it is only you and Sam for now. 

You swallow the lump in your throat as he stalks toward you. Each Winchester takes a different approach with you. Each one is caring and respectful of your limits and desires. But, they also have different tastes as Doms. John is the authoritarian. He is in charge of play time. Dean is your gentlest Dom. He can fuck you until you pass out but he also takes charge of your aftercare. He always makes sure you are clean and cared for after your punishments. Sam on the other hand, likes to rough you up. He never listens to John when he tells his son to slow it down or take it easy. Sam uses you like his personal fuck toy and doesn’t care if you get put away wet and unsatisfied. 

The twinge of fear you feel whenever Sam get this look in his eye makes your pussy wet and your mind fuzzy. And, he knows it. He knows you can handle it. But you both also know that he will back off if and when he knows he is pushing you too far. His brutality is an act. It is a part he plays very well for both your benefits. 

Sam doesn’t say a word. He takes you by the collar and pulls you off the bed. You stumble onto your knees and start unbuckling his belt. He grips your hair to stop you. “You think you’ve earned that yet? You’ve been a bad girl. What makes you think you can have a treat?”

You lower your head in penance. You know you were being greedy but you miss his taste. The hunt was long and taxing, you haven’t been properly fucked in over a week. 

“Hands only,” Sam relents. 

You give him a thankful smile and free him from his jeans. Your fingers work him to full hardness. You bite your lip to prevent your tongue from peeking out for a taste. You spit in your palm so you can stoke him with more ease. You pick up your pace and jerk him off with more fervour in hopes that he will appreciate your penance. You sweep your thumb over the patch of skin under his tip and his hips buck forward in instinctive approval.

His tip starts leaking precum and you look up at him with pleading eyes. “Please, Sir?” you beg.

“Fine, you can clean me up,” Sam instructs you.

You lean forward and suck on his tip before he changes his mind. You tongue laps at his slit to gather all his salty goodness. Your hands continue to work him over then trail up his shaft to massage his sack. 

You hear a low growl from the owner of the cock in your hands. You know that can only mean one thing. You prepare your throat for the intense fucking it’s about to receive. But, just as Sam jerks his hips back, John and Dean come back into the room. 

“Enough! Get her on the bed,” John instructs his son. To your surprise, Sam listens to his father. He pulls himself away from you and sets you on the bed. “Tie her down,” John finishes his orders. 

Sam smirks at you as he binds your wrists to either bedpost. The ropes bite at your skin as you test your mobility, or lack thereof. You keep your eyes on John as he watches you be spread out. Sam moves down your body to bind your ankles too. When he pulls away, you squirm in place to see how much give you have with your restraints. It’s not much. Sam slaps your thigh when he sees you are trying to move. You settle down for him. 

“What do you say to Sam? You haven’t forgotten your manners, have you baby girl?” John asks you with disappointment in his voice.

“No sir!” you beseech. “Thank you, Sam. Thank you for tying me down so well.” You beam at the youngest Winchester.

“You’re welcome, baby girl,” Sam coos at you and you smile under his approval.

“Move aside, Sammy. It’s time to finish setting her up,” Dean says in a cheery voice as he finally comes within your view. 

You thought being strapped down and spread out was your punishment. They know you like being able to touch them. They know it will drive you nuts not being able to pull and scratch at their skin. But apparently, this is not enough for them today.  

Dean comes and sits on the bed beside you. He is completely naked and holding something in his hands. Your eyes go wide when you realize what it is. They bought a specialized hood for you a couple months back. It is a thick black material that covers your entire face and neck. You tried it on when you first got it. You didn’t particularly like the idea of not being able to see or hear anything. So, they put the hood away and hadn’t mentioned it again, until tonight. 

“Tell me no and I’ll put this back where I found it,” Dean assures you. 

You give him a soft smile. You nod and lift your head off the bed in a silent gesture of your consent. You want to try this. You want to be strapped down and used like the flesh light you are. You always like when they have complete control over your body. The idea of not being able to know who or what will happen next, excites you. 

Dean slips the hood over your head and your world goes dark. Your vision is completely blacked out. Also because of the thick material, most of your hearing is muffled too. You can only hear something when they lean in right at your ear. Dean positions the hood so the small patch of mesh is over your mouth and nose. It is a small piece of breathable fabric that contrasts the rest of the heavy hood. 

“Can you breathe?” Dean asks against your ear as he secures the hood in place. You nod but that isn’t good enough for him. “Use your words, baby girl. I need to know we can hear you in case you need us to take it off. Can you breathe?” he asks again.

“Yes sir,” you state clearly through the material. 

Dean doesn’t say anything else, not that you can hear anyway. 

For a long agonizing minute, you are left untouched and exposed. You know if it were up to Dean, he’d leave you in this position all night. He has the patience of a crocodile. He will wait for his prey to come to him. He would bring you to the edge and then leave you without going in for the kill. Luckily, you know the other two men do not have his patience. 

The longer they leave you like this, the wetter you get. You try and squeeze your thighs together but the effort is futile. You can’t move. You can’t see. You can barely hear anything. You have to wait.

You feel the mattress dip between your spread legs and a flat tongue drags through your slit. Your hips jerk off the bed as far as they can go, which isn’t far. It takes you a minute to realize whose mouth is on you. The curiosity was eating you alive, literally. But once the man bites down over your outer lips you know that it is Sam. He always uses his teeth. Your mind settles down with that realization. You like knowing who is doing what to you, so maybe this punishment will be harder than you thought. 

Sam works over your cunt with the same brutality he always does. He loves leaving love bites to your core and marking his path. You want to squeeze your thighs around his head and trap him in one place but you can’t. You have to take whatever he is willing to give. The only problem is he is sucking, licking and, tugging everywhere but your clit and hole. You swear under your breath and curse his name in a whisper because you know they can’t hear you that way. You let out your frustration in quiet protests as you accept your punishment. 

You are distracted from Sam’s teasing when two sets of mouths latch onto your breasts. Each of your nipples are being lavished with a mix of teeth and tongue. Whoever is on your left is dragging your hardened nipple through their teeth. Whoever is on your right is sucking down over you like a man starved. You would arch into them if you could. Not being able to see or hear is making you experience their touch in full force. It is as if you are just now noticing each and every callus on their hands. You can actually feel the little bristles on their tongue as they swirl around you tight buttons. 

Everything is heightened. Every touch is fire and you can’t wait to burn alive. 

All the mouths move off you. You whimper for their return but realize no one probably heard you. If you want to be heard you have to speak in a clear and loud voice. It’s probably for the best they didn’t hear you. They don’t like it when your needy during punishments.

Your thoughts are broken up by the intruding sensation of having your pussy filled with a giant cock. You gasp as the intruding length pushes in to the hilt. It stretches you open in a borderline painful way because Sam hadn’t bothered to prepare you first. He knows that’s the way you like it. The spark of pain is heightened due to your other senses being dulled. Before you have time to figure out who is inside you, the dick starts fucking into you at a wild pace. You try focusing your mind. But every coherent thought is punched out of your brain with every brutal thrust. 

The man inside you isn’t touching you. He is only fucking you. His hands are planted on the mattress beside your head. So, you can’t tell who it is. You try and let yourself enjoy the sensation but there is still that gnawing curiosity. The wild thrusts being to sputter and seconds later you are being fled to the brim with their thick seed. 

You now realize how this night is going to go. Your punishments either go one of three ways. First, they overstimulate you with multiple orgasms. Second, they edge you and deny you your orgasm until the grand climatic finish. Or, they fuck you for their own pleasure and don’t give a shit whether you cum or not. Today, they are taking door number three. 

You know your allowed to cum whenever you want, though they don’t make it easy for you. You try and clear your mind so you can enjoy this and get something out of it as well. But you’re finding that is very hard to do. 

A few seconds after the first cock pulls out of you, another replaces it. If you could hear anything, you would no doubt hear the squishing sounds of mixed arousal slicking the newcomer’s way. You still can’t guess who is inside you. It’s like they made a pact to not do any of their usual tricks so you can’t tell who is currently fucking you. 

Thick hands grasp your breasts. The fingers dig into you and hold you down as the new cock spears into you at an even more brutal pace than the last. The blunt nails on the fingertips feel like knives with your heightened sense of touch. You thrash your head from side to side since it is the only body part you’re able to move. It is the only part of you have control over. That proved to be a mistake. The hood slips out of place and the breathable patch of mesh slips away from your mouth. 

Your breath becomes heavy and hot inside the mask. You try shaking your head again to get it back in place but it’s not budging. You can’t gain any traction and the mesh only slips further away. Your heart starts to race as your breaths are harder to grasp. 

“J-John,” you squeak out when your panicked mind can’t think of anything else to say. John is in charge, he will stop this. He will realize something is wrong. He will help you fix it before they continue. 

The cock inside you cums and your feel an added wetness between your legs. The new load of cum spills out of you as they pull out. “Thank god,” you say to yourself. You ball your fists and try signalling with your hands that something is wrong. “John?” you say again. You don’t want to use your safe word yet. You don’t want them to stop, you just want them to notice something is wrong. You think that as they transition between players, one of them will notice. You want them to see you are thrashing for attention or notice the hood is out of place. 

You choke on your sobs as neither of those things happen.

You dripping cunt is being filled again. This cock fucks you with the same intensity as the last. Your breaths are getting harder to grasp now that you are starting to panic. You try and calm yourself down knowing that panicking will only make it worse. But as the cock pounds into you at a punishing pace, the thick material of the hood shifts again. It starts to suffocate you. Now, you have no other choice. 

“Red!” you scream through the hood. 

But the cock doesn’t stop splitting you open. 

“Red!” you try again a little louder. Your boys always stop the second they hear your safe word. So, why won’t they stop now? You lip quivers and hot tears stream down your cheeks as your cries go unanswered. You try again and again. But the pitiless cock in your pussy refuses to relent. The multiple sets of hands rubbing over your stomach and arms hold you down as your safe word goes unacknowledged.  

Your breath becomes short. Your heart thumps against your chest in quick succession. Your fingers start feeling numb and a sweat breaks out over your body. You can’t take it anymore but they won’t stop. You try to assure yourself that it will be over soon. Even if they won’t respond to your safe word, whoever is inside you won’t have the stamina to torture you all night. But then the thought of another one getting hard again makes fresh tears spill over. What if this does go on all night? You have no power to stop it. 

You start to pull violently against your restraints. You need to get out of here. You need this to stop. If they don’t want to listen to you, you’ll have to make them listen. You can feel the skin around your ankles and wrist break under the force of your protests. You can feel what you assume are drops of blood trailing down your arm.

You scream. You don’t scream your safe word, because apparently that isn’t good enough anymore. No, you scream a blood curdling cry of pure distress. You pray that will get them to stop and let you go.

The cock is out of you in an instant. Your wrists and ankles are cut free and the hood is pulled off your head. The sudden rush of air gives your lungs a much-needed relief. Now that you are in the light, you are just now realizing how spotty your vision had become with the lack of oxygen. You head is dizzy and you lay on your side to gain some grounding. You curl into yourself. You tuck your knees into your chest and bury your head in the pillow. 

You are vaguely aware of the Winchesters calling your name and asking you questions. But you cannot respond. Your shaky limbs and fuzzy mind make you unable to respond. It isn’t until the soft pads of John’s fingers brush the hair off your sweaty forehead are you brought back to reality. You flinch away from his touch and scrabble up the bed and away from him. Violent sobs wrack your body as you tuck your face into your knees. 

Each Winchester stares at you in a mess of confusion, regret, and pain. Their chests tighten at the mere thought of their actions hurting you. It is their job to care for you and protect you. They failed. They failed  _ you _ . But why hadn’t you used the safe word? Why didn’t you stop them sooner? How did it get to this point?

Dean almost doubles over with guilt as he watches you sob. John pulls his son up to his full height and looks him in the eye. “This isn’t about us. We can feel like shit later. Right now, we need to make this right,” John says as he directs Dean’s attention to you bloodied wrists and ankles. 

Dean tightens his jaw and swallows his shame. He runs out of the room to get the first aid kit. 

John looks to Sam who only nods his understanding of his father’s silent order. Sam gets into the bed beside you. He reaches out for you but you pull away. Sam is always rough with you. But the thought of you actually being scared of him makes his heart hurt and his eyes water over. 

“Y/N, I need you to let us see your wrists. We have to clean you up,” Sam asserts. He sees the sticky mess between your thighs. It is no doubt making you feel worse and more vulnerable. A part of him thinks that if they wash away the evidence, then it will ease your mind as well.

“No,” you say into your forearms. “Don’t touch me,” you command. They didn’t stop. You begged them to stop. You used your safe word more times than you can count but they never stopped. They didn’t care about you then. So, you have no reason to let them take care of you now. You don’t want their hands on you again. What if they try to finish what they started? You can’t trust them to stop or listen when you say you’ve had enough. You can’t trust them.

You use your shaky fingers to unbuckle your collar. It’s too tight and it still feels like you can’t breathe. You throw it down on the bed beside you before curling back into yourself. 

John’s heart stops the second you take off your collar. Sam looks to your bare neck then back at his father with wide eyes. 

John swallows the lump in his throat. “Y/N,” John’s voice breaks through your nervous thoughts. You look up at him. The worry in his brow and the grief in his eyes is unmistakable. “Please, you have to let us make this right,” John implores you.

“Please John, don’t touch me,” you beg again. The pleading in in your eyes tears John apart. “Why didn’t you stop? You promised you would always stop if I needed you to. Were you  _ that  _ mad at me? Because I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ll always listen to you from now on! Just please don’t do that again! I’ll be better! Pease, don’t touch me,” a sob breaks up your words but the message is clear.

Sam and John’s shared look of regret goes unnoticed by you. Sam moves in to wrap a blanket around your naked and shivering body. He tries to wrap his arms around you too but you flinch away from him. Sam looks back up at his father. Sam and John rarely see eye to eye but right now Sam needs his father to have an answer that will make this better. When it comes to you, they put their differences aside and Sam trusts his father will know how to fix this. But John has no such answer. He is just as lost as Sam.

Dean comes rushing back into the room. He looks from your discarded collar to John with the same widened eyes his brother wore. Both brothers are looking to their father for direction. But most of all,  _ you  _ need John to step up. 

John clears his throat. “Is that what you think happened, princess?” He presses you to continue communicating with him. He finally got you talking and doesn’t want to lose that line of connection. He can’t have you retreating into your own head. “Do you think we didn’t stop because we were mad at you?”

“Why else wouldn’t you-”

“We couldn’t hear you.” Sam cuts you off. He scoots in a little closer to you. You don’t back away. “That fucking hood made it so we couldn’t hear anything from you… until you started screaming. Even then it was muffled.” You can see the pain in Sam’s eyes as he remembers the agony that ripped through your throat. 

“It-It slipped and I couldn’t breathe. I-I thought you were adding breath play to my punishment. But I-”

“We would never add to your punishment without your consent. If we were to restrict your breathing, you would not be wearing that hood. We need to see how you react and when you’ve had enough. We would never hurt you without permission. Your punishments are only fun for us if we know you are having fun too. You know that, right?” John raises his brow at you. 

You think about it for a moment. Each of your boys look devastated by what happened. Dean is almost in tears. Sam looks scared to touch you again. And, John’s overarching dominance has deflated into a puddle of worry. Maybe it was a mistake. Your boys have always respected you and respected your limits before. Until tonight, it never had crossed your mind that they would ever disregard your consent or abuse your trust in them. You couldn’t see or hear anything under that hood. It’s not unreasonable to assume that they couldn’t hear you either. You at least owe them the benefit of the doubt. 

You reach down the bed and pick up your collar. You hand it to Sam who still sits with hesitation beside you. You pick your hair up and off your shoulder so he and refasten the faux-leather claim. Sam secures the buckle on the loosest notch and re-establishes your bond. John was worried when you seemed hesitant to answer his question. But, seeing you back in your collar is the best answer John could have asked for.

The small smile you give Sam lifts the anvil off his aching chest. He secures the blanket around you tighter and pulls you into his arms. You let him. 

You look up at Dean and hold your wrists out for him. Dean lets out the breath he had been holding since you started screaming. He settles on the bed in front of you and starts wiping down your wounds. You hiss at the sting. But Sam holds you tighter. Dean blows cool air over the irritation caused by the disinfectant. It doesn’t hurt so bad anymore. 

Dean finishes wrapping your wrists and moves onto your ankles. He hasn’t looked you in the eyes yet. Something is still eating away at him. 

“Y/N, there is something you need to know. I was the-” Dean starts to confess but you cut him off by leaning forward and putting your finger over his lip. 

You know what he is going to say. You know why he is the most broken up about this. It must have been him who went last. He must have been the one inside you when your limit broke. You can tell by the guilt in his eyes that your reaction scared him just as much as it scared you. But this isn’t his fault. Tonight, was an accident waiting to happen. The hood was a mistake. Plus, you all were unprepared. None of you had even thought to have a nonverbal signal in case things went wrong. But now you know. You can learn from this and move on. 

“This isn’t on you,” you crawl into his lap and rest your head on his shoulder. He knows he should protest. He still needs to clean the blood off your ankles and bandage your wounds. But having you in his arms is exactly what he needs right now. He can feel your breaths steady the longer you stay curled into him. 

After a long moment, Dean reluctantly nods to his brother so Sam can take you from his arms. Dean needs to finish cleaning your rope burns. The sooner he gets that done, the sooner you all can get some much-needed rest. You settle against Sam’s chest. You try and keep your sounds of pain to a minimum as Dean cares for you with his healing hands. However, your face contorts with discomfort as you hold in your whimpers. Sam holds you tighter and places soft kisses to your tensing brows to try and ease the strain in them. It works. 

The brothers get you settled in the bed. You are safely sandwiched between them and you know they would never truly hurt you. With your body heat keeping them grounded, they each drift to sleep within minutes. You look around the room and notice John is gone. You crawl out from between the brothers and slip out of the room. They are both exhausted and don’t even stir in your absence. 

You find John in the library nursing a glass of whiskey while twirling your hood in his tense fingers. He is lost in thought. He doesn’t know you are there until you push his hand aside and get into his lap. The bunker is cold. And as usual, you still are only wearing your collar. You curl into him and steal his warmth. John fiddles with the ‘W’ on your collar, he isn’t ready to look you in the eye. 

You hook your finger under his chin so he is forced to look at you. You don’t say anything. You don’t have to. You simply offer him a soft smile. You then nuzzle into his shoulder and make yourself comfortable. You have a feeling you may be sitting here for a while. He needs more time. 

Your boys may have different styles as your Dominants. But they all require the same type of comfort when things go wrong. Whether something bad happens on a case or an accident happens in the bedroom, they all need the same type of relief afterwards. They need to hold you. They each keep you in their arms until they have assured themselves things will be fine. You let them stay in this position for as long as they need. You take care of them in your own way. You let them think they are holding you for your benefit but a part of them knows it is all for them. Your warmth and forgiveness gives them the security of knowing they are loved.

Your Doms take care of you. They guide you and open up your life to love and pleasure. However, they also punish you when needed which opens up your life to risk and vulnerability. But they always take care of you. And you will always take care of them. John rests his forehead against your hair and breathes you in. You can feel him starting to relax but his grip over you never loosen, not that you want it to.

  
  



End file.
